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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24929728">Zhilat</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/merrymegtargaryen/pseuds/hipgrab'>hipgrab (merrymegtargaryen)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Wars Sequel Trilogy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Dothraki Rey, F/M, Inspired by Game of Thrones, Targaryen Ben</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 06:13:33</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,827</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24929728</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/merrymegtargaryen/pseuds/hipgrab</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Ben Targaryen weds Khal Rey with fear and barbaric splendor in a field beyond the walls of Pentos, for the Dothraki believe that all things of importance in a man’s life must be done beneath the open sky.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Rey/Ben Solo</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>85</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Zhilat</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I've had this idea kicking around for a while and finally decided to manifest it. Hope you enjoy :)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Ben Targaryen weds Khal Rey with fear and barbaric splendor in a field beyond the walls of Pentos, for the Dothraki believe that all things of importance in a man’s life must be done beneath the open sky. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It had not been Ben’s idea to wed the horselord, but it had been his only chance of getting home. Home to Westeros, and the Iron Throne that the Usurper had taken from his family.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The woman is taller than most, and even though Ben towers over her, he feels small when she looks up at him. He is so used to people bowing and averting their eyes (as is right, for the blood of the dragon) that he is unused to someone--a woman, no less--staring defiantly back at him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Dothraki have no interest in the blood of the dragon, though. They do not read or write, and their stories are only about the victorious. The Targaryens of Westeros were defeated, and a story of defeat is of no interest to the Dothraki. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In truth, Khal Rey is not marrying Ben for his bloodline or his claim to the Iron Throne, for she has no interest in either. She is marrying Ben because he is a curiosity. Khals can take as many husbands and wives as they like; Ben may as well be a glorified mistress for all that this wedding means to Khal Rey. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But she has forty thousand men and horses, and such an army would be enough to take back the Iron Throne.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>But first I must make her want to fight for me.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That will be no easy task, though. In days past, men fought for the Targaryens because they were afraid of what would befall them if they did not. When Anakin the Conqueror brought the dragon Vader to Westeros, they did not knock on doors and politely ask for men to follow them; they burned down their opponents and rewarded their loyal men with those opponents’ lands and titles. They will fear Ben again when he brings all forty thousand Dothraki warriors and their horses to Westeros, but in the meantime, how will he make his </span>
  <em>
    <span>khal</span>
  </em>
  <span> love him? The Targaryens were never good at instilling love when it was so easy to instill fear, and Ben knows even less about love than his ancestors did. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Several times he tries to speak to the </span>
  <em>
    <span>khal,</span>
  </em>
  <span> but she is always talking to her bloodriders, or laughing and clapping at the entertainment. There are musicians and dancers, and when most of Khal Rey’s warriors have drunk themselves into carelessness, they take their pleasure right there on the dance floor. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ben looks away, embarrassed, and sees the </span>
  <em>
    <span>khal</span>
  </em>
  <span> watching him with a grin. Is she thinking of their wedding night? He flushes, looking away.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He is still a virgin, but he would be surprised if the same could be said for his new wife. While it is not uncommon for men in Westeros to sow their oats before taking wives, men of noble character would wait for their wedding nights the same as their brides. That was the excuse Ben had always given himself, anyway. In truth, carnal pleasures have always held little interest for him. There had always been other things to concern him, from where his next meal was going to come from to how he would take back the Iron Throne.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Dothraki have no such concerns; out of the corner of his eye, he can see the riders mate one another in plain view of all the rest. Will he be expected to mate with his new wife in this way? That had not occurred to him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A fight breaks out amongst the mating, and two of the men dance with their </span>
  <em>
    <span>arakhs.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Ben watches, horrified, as one cuts the throat of the other, spilling his blood in the sand. Then he turns back to the woman he was with and mounts her again, as if there was no interruption in their lovemaking.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Khal Rey leans over. “A Dothraki wedding without at least three deaths is considered a dull affair,” she tells him. It is the longest sentence she has spoken to him, and Ben finds himself hopelessly tongue-tied.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I see,” he manages.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Several more men die before the sun has set; a good omen, Ben assumes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When the sky turns pink, Khal Rey claps her hands, ending the celebrations. Now it is time for the gift giving...and after that, Ben knows, the bedding.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His gifts to Rey are traditional gifts for a </span>
  <em>
    <span>khal;</span>
  </em>
  <span> a silver whip, an </span>
  <em>
    <span>arakh</span>
  </em>
  <span> engraved with a war scene, and a painted sandsilk vest. These are the gifts he was told to give her, and she seems happy enough with them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her gifts to him are far more extravagant. The first is a book of songs of the Seven Kingdoms. Ben knows many of them by heart, but the gesture means much to him all the same, especially considering the Dothraki do not read or write. She put effort into this gift.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The second is a cedar chest bound in bronze. Inside, nestled in velvet, are three huge dragon eggs. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ben knows at once that that is what they are, even though he has never seen a real one. No one in living memory has, he supposes. Every now and then some fortune-seeker or other will claim to have found a dragon egg, and perhaps the eggs did once belong to dragons, but the sands of time have turned them to stone, and even if dragons had once been inside the eggs, they will never hatch now.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nevertheless, the eggs Khal Rey has given Ben are beautiful; one is black with scarlet swirls, the second, a deep green flecked with bronze, and the third a pale cream streaked with gold.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you,” he murmurs, turning the eggs over in his hands. When he glances up, the </span>
  <em>
    <span>khal</span>
  </em>
  <span> has a pleased look on her face. She rises, climbing off the dais; Ben sets the eggs back in the chest and follows her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her third gift to him is a horse as black as midnight, its fine coat glistening in the fiery sunlight. The horse is huge--fitting for a man as big as Ben. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Anakin the Conqueror rode a black dragon named Vader,” Khal Rey tells him, handing him the reins. “You shall have a Vader of your own.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ben strokes the horse’s head. “He’s beautiful,” he says, looking at his wife. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She smiles in satisfaction. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He mounts the horse, amazed at how powerful he feels atop the beast. It does not shift and shy the way some horses do, but stands firm. When he squeezes his knees, the horse responds at once. Every move Ben makes, every squeeze of his knees or dig of his heel or pat on the neck, the horse moves exactly as he wishes him to. Man and horse are soon cantering up and down the length of the pavilion, and when he sees the bed of coals over which the meat had been roasting, he urges the horse forward, and it clears the bed with a single swift leap.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Khal Rey is smiling at him when he lands. She mounts her own horse, urging it forward. Ben understands, and he follows.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The sun is low in the sky when they reach a secluded place along the beach. Khal Rey secures the horses while Ben stands on the beach, watching the waves crash upon the shore. Rey brings over a blanket, setting it down in the sand and smoothing it. She pats the blanket when she’s done, encouraging him to lie down.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He swallows, doing as she bids. Above him, he can see the first stars appear in the sky, faint pinpricks against the waning light of the sun.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Khal Rey slips out of her clothes, leaving them piled at the corner of the blanket. Her skin is tawny and freckled from the sun, her legs long and muscled. Her breasts are small, their tips rosy, and a thatch of dark hair rests between her legs. She straddles Ben’s hips but does not touch him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Not yet.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you afraid, Ben Targaryen?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He swallows. “Yes.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You shouldn’t be. There are worse things in this world than naked women.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He wish he could find it in himself to laugh. “This naked woman is the </span>
  <em>
    <span>khal</span>
  </em>
  <span> of a great horde.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So? I have heard it said that the Targaryens once rode dragons.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He does smile at that. “What do you know about the Targaryens?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know that they once ruled the Seven Kingdoms. I know that they had an iron chair, and you want it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s a throne,” he corrects. “And yes, I want it back.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How can you have it back if it was never yours?” she challenges. “You never sat on it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He sits up, frowning. “I’m the rightful King of Westeros. The throne is mine by right.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You westerners and your rights,” she scoffs, but there is amusement behind her eyes. “The Dothraki know only one right: the right of strength. The Dothraki do not follow babies wrapped in silk just because their father was someone important. They follow warriors who have proven themselves in battle.” She leans forward, resting on her hands, so close that Ben can smell her sweat. “And they will follow me across the poison water and conquer the Seven Kingdoms of Westeros if I command it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ben goes still. “And...will you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t know yet,” she admits. “It depends on what sort of man you turn out to be.” She reaches up to touch his hair. “The Dothraki follow strength. They will follow me...but you are not asking them to follow me. You are asking them to put </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> on this iron chair.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Throne,” he corrects quietly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She ignores that. “You must prove to them </span>
  <em>
    <span>why</span>
  </em>
  <span> they should put you in the iron chair. You must earn their respect.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll help you,” she says, almost a whisper. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When she kisses him, it is slower and sweeter than he expected from the horselord. She caresses his hair and his face, her kisses dotting his lips, her tongue tasting his. He can feel himself go hard, and when she moves, he can feel her brush the hardness there. He gasps against her mouth.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t be afraid,” she whispers. “I feel it too.” She pulls back, her eyes searching his. “Do you want me to stop?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He shakes his head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you want me to mount you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He nods mutely.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes or no, Ben Targaryen.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes,” he whispers.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She pulls him free and guides him inside her. He gasps, his fingers tangling in the blanket beneath him as she rides him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Beneath a canopy of stars, Khal Rey takes Ben Targaryen to husband, for the Dothraki believe that all things of importance in a man’s life must be done beneath the open sky. </span>
</p>
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